Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket
by lizzierae
Summary: "There was never really much Logan Mitchell couldn't handle. What he didn't know how to handle was the death of his youngest child." What else can you do when you suffer from the loss of an innocent child?


_Soo, I'm probably a really sick person, but I was in the mood to write a sort of depressing story...yeeeeah... So here it is! Enjoy...? And I don't own anything._

There was never really much Logan Mitchell couldn't handle. Sure, he freaked out under pressure a lot. And yeah, he hated that he could never seem to tell his friends the simple phrase _no_. But he knew all of that by now. He knew how to handle it. What he didn't know how to handle was the death of his youngest child.

It was a day like any other. The birds were singing, the bees were buzzing, and every flower in the Mitchell family's garden seemed to be bloomed. Logan and Camille Mitchell's three children were all outside playing in the backyard with their treehouse and swingset as their mother watched them with a content smile on her face.

Logan slid the backdoor to their big white house open to his favorite sight: his happy family. There was nothing more he loved in the world. He walked over to his wife and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he sat next to her at the patio table.

"Hello, Mrs. Mitchell," he playfully remarked with a grin her way.

"How was work, Mr. Mitchell?" she questioned in reply with her own smile, now averting her eyes from her beautiful children as they laughed and played.

"Sucky. I missed you guys," he replied with his usual blunt attitude. Being a doctor was what he always wanted to do, everyone knew that, but he never liked to talk about it with his family. His children were all far too young to hear about the inside life of a doctor. They didn't need to hear about sickness and death. They deserved to be happy, normal children.

Camille gave a laugh at his response, turning back to their children, who hadn't seemed to notice their father's presence. "Hey, guys! Daddy's home!" she called to the three.

All three children came flying toward their parents. Nine-year-old Taylor was the first to greet her father, being the eldest of the Mitchell children. Seven-year-old Michael was next, followed by a stumbling four-year-old Isabelle.

Logan laughed at their reactions and picked up Isabelle as he squeezed Michael and Taylor in one arm. "What did you three do today? Besides drive Mommy crazy?" he asked the three after kissing each of them on the forehead and sitting down once again in his seat.

"We don't drive Mommy crazy!" Isabelle stated with a giggle.

"You don't? Then who are those three little munchkins that do?" the father asked with a jokingly confused voice.

Isabelle shrugged her tiny shoulders, giving her father her own look of confusion.

"Maybe it's the neighbor kids!" Michael butted in with a grin to match the one his elder sister soon shot him in return, thinking of their best friends since birth, Addison, Tyler, and Donnie Knight.

"Yeah, tell me about it—it's their father's fault," Logan said with a laugh, thinking of his own best friend, and Camille gave his arm a playful smack.

"Speaking of the Knights, Jo invited us over for dinner tonight," she told her husband. "Six o'clock."

Logan nodded, "Got it."

When six o'clock rolled around, the Mitchells made their way over to the Knights' house for dinner. They soon found that all their best friends were all there. Carlos and Stephanie were there with their five-year-old, Austin, and seven-year-old, Alexandria, and James and Annie were there with their five-year-old twins, Danny and Sophia. The gang never really lost touch, especially since Carlos and James refused to buy houses that weren't right next to each other, and insisted that Kendall and Logan do the same. True roommates can never be without each other, the duo always stated. And because the four of them obviously had a total BRO-mance going on, as their wives constantly joked, Carlos and James only lived about two blocks away from Kendall and Logan. You couldn't mess with a true friendship like theirs.

When dinner was eaten and the dishes were done, the parents allowed their children to play out in the Knights' backyard swimming pool as they talked amongst themselves on the back porch. All of their children knew how to swim, and Addison and Taylor were well old enough to watch the little ones. Besides, their parents were right there...what could go wrong?

Though their ages changed and the friends were now in their late thirties, their maturity stayed the same when they were together. They still acted like total goofballs and laughed just as loud and as much as they always did. Carlos was halfway through a wild tale about his epic fight with a stapler at work, when Michael and Tyler came flying up to their parents, their faces fear-stricken and their bodies wet from the pool they'd just been swimming in.

"Mom, Dad!" the two were screaming as they ran.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down you two," Kendall told his son and nephew. He went from "dude" mode with his friends to "dad" mode with the kids in seconds, without fail.

Both boys started spilling out jumbled up words to the eight adults in front of them as they pointed over at the pool, when Camille demanded their attention. "One at a time!" was all she had to say before her son turned to her.

"Isabelle—" That was all he had to say before Logan and Camille took off, their friends following after hearing the rest of the boy's words. _Isabelle was hurt._

Logan and Camille saw their youngest child in the arms of Taylor and ran to the two. Logan took the tiny brunette into his own arms and looked down at her, suddenly cursing the Knights for having such a big backyard, himself for not watching the kids better, and anything else he could possibly think of. He went into full-on doctor mode as he spoke to his wife, "Let's get her to the hospital..._now_."

The hospital wait was the longest few hours of Logan's life. Because Isabelle was his daughter, he wasn't allowed to be one of her doctors. And that was killing him. He needed to know what was going on. That was _his_ kid in there! Instead of figuring out what was wrong with his little girl, he was stuck in the waiting room with everyone else, pacing the floor anxiously.

"I'm so, so sorry, Mom! I just took my eyes off her for a second, I swear!" Taylor was freaking out. Tears stained her rosy cheeks as she compulsively pulled her curly brown hair in uneasiness.

Camille patted her daughter's back as she herself held back tears. "Shh..." she shushed her. "It wasn't your fault."

Though the mother-daughter pair had basically been repeating the same conversation amongst themselves for the past three hours, no one else in the room seemed to notice. Tyler and Michael were trying to calm themselves by playing a half-hearted game of Go Fish. Tyler, ever the competitive one, like his father, was losing and didn't even care. Michael was staring at his cards for minutes on end, not thinking about the stupid game at all. Jo and Kendall were trying to comfort their own eldest child, who also sat in tears for Isabelle's fate, which she was sure she caused by not having a better watch on the child. Donnie, Alexandria, Austin, Danny, and Sophia all sat near the waiting room toys, but didn't really play with the "busy beads" and other playthings around them. Though the five of them were the youngest in the waiting room, they knew something was wrong by the tears and quiet that surrounded them. James and Carlos were trying their hardest to get the youngest kids to play with the toys around them, to get them away from the sudden sadness, but it was hardly working. How could they ask their children to be happy when they weren't happy themselves? Stephanie and Annie were quietly sitting next to each other, making small conversation every so often, and just watching the way everyone else was acting. The group was the quietest they'd ever been, by far.

"Logan," his friend and fellow doctor called to him as he entered the room. Logan immediately looked over at him and he and Camille were both in front of the man in a matter of seconds. Dr. Thomas had a look that immediately made Logan put his arm around Camille and expect the worst...but even that didn't prepare him.

"What is it?" Logan asked his friend once they had vanished into the seemingly-deserted hallway, trying his best to sound as brave as possible, though he was really scared to death.

"I'm so sorry," Dr. Thomas answered, and Logan knew. He knew she didn't make it. He ignored whatever else the other doctor was saying. Something about her lungs collapsing from all the water...whatever. He knew what happened. His daughter drowned. What else was there? She was four-year-old...what did he expect to happen? A miraculous recovery in hours? 30% of children between the ages one and four die every year because of drowning. Most of those deaths occur because their parents weren't watching them. Logan used to wonder how the parents of those children could be so stupid. How could you _not_ watch your baby near water? Now he _was_ that parent... Did he really think they'd go home and all watch _Full House_ like the happy little family they'd always been? No...he knew this was coming. He knew when he picked little Isabelle up into his arms and ran her straight to the hospital.

Camille let out a tearful choke at Dr. Thomas' words, trying not to break in front of everyone. She couldn't let her other children know that they had lost their baby sister, though they were safely in the next room and couldn't hear a thing that was said. Not now, anyway. She looked to Logan, silently asking him to explain to her what to do next. And by the look Camille saw on his face, she knew he was also at a loss. Logan looked down at his wife's tear-rimmed eyes and pulled her into his arms. That was when Camille broke, Logan following close behind.

The weeks passed, and nothing seemed to be going right for the Mitchell family. Quiet seemed to take over their lives. The happy home they used to live in was now depressing. The remaining Mitchell children were afraid to ask their parents anything, and seemed to be closer than ever. They refused to talk to their friends. Their school teachers had recommended for them to get psychiatric help, but Logan refused. They were just kids—they couldn't deal with talking about this, especially to a stranger. Taylor and Michael were normally such happy, playful children with lots of friends. Now they acted as if they were robots: they woke up, ate breakfast, went to school, came home, did their homework, ate dinner, and went to bed. There was no more playing. There were no more happy sounds of laughter for Logan to come home to after a hard day at the hospital. There was nothing.

The Knights, Diamonds, and Garcias all tried to help their friends the best they could. Jo, Stephanie, and Annie had offered to take Camille out for a Girls Day of shopping, but she refused to even leave the house. When Logan would bother coming over to the Knights' house for a hockey game once in a while, he'd just sit there, sipping his beer and thinking. He hardly watched the game on the basement's big screen T.V. He didn't even interact with his best friends. He just sat there, a blank look on his face. And that scared Kendall, James, and Carlos more than anything. At least if Logan was talking, they'd know what he was thinking. They'd be able to comfort him. They'd actually know what he was feeling.

That was a lie. They'd _never_ know what he was thinking. They'd never lost a child. What did they know? Logan thought bitterly of his friends for having seemingly-perfect lives. All of their children were alive and normal...his weren't.

The quiet seemed to last for longer than it actually had. But finally, Camille spoke up to Logan one night, just before bed, when Taylor and Michael had long since gone to bed.

"I think we need to get help. All of us," she told him.

Logan looked up at her, not believing his ears. Was she really saying this? A month ago, she agreed that they could get through all this as a family, not with the help of some "doctor" who simply listened to people cry all day long. "What?" he asked her quietly, to make sure.

She nodded. "Look at us, Logan: we're all a mess. Taylor and Michael don't speak to their friends anymore—hell, they hardly speak to _us_. You and I barely talk anymore. When you actually bother hanging out with your friends, you don't even acknowledge them. I can't even bare to leave this house. We need professional help!" Originally, she thought it was a wack-job idea too, but after so long, she'd decided to try anything to get her family back together. She'd already lost one child, she wasn't going to lose the other two and her husband as well. If talking to someone was going to help that, she would do it.

"No," Logan answered his wife's request simply as he sat on their bed, not bothering to even look at her.

"What do you mean 'no'? Logan, we don't have a choice! We have to help our family!" Camille argued, making her way in front for him so he could no longer avoid her.

"No, Camille—I won't do it," he elaborated. "I won't explain to some stranger that my family and I are messed up because we lost our daughter. I won't tell this person I can't stand my best friends because they have all their children. I won't tell them I can't look at my wife and children, because they remind me of my dead daughter. I won't!"

Camille let the tears spill from her brown eyes as she put a comforting hand to his cheek, letting his own tears fall past her fingertips. "I love you, Logan. I love you, and I love our children. And I know what you're saying, I feel the same way. She was my daughter, too!"

Logan grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. The pain was too much, he'd held his tears in for too long. He couldn't continue to act like he was this completely numb, dead inside man. He couldn't sit by and watch as his world fell apart anymore.

"Mommy? Daddy?" a small whisper came from their doorway, and the parents looked up to see their children standing, scared, with tears spilling down their cheeks.

"Come here," Logan called to them. Taylor and Michael immediately ran over to their mother and father. The family of four cried in each other's arms, refusing to let go.

Everything was beginning to come out. True feelings of guilt, hurt, anger, and sadness filled the room. And after all the tears and talking, Logan sat up, looking at his wife and children, all cuddled up together in his and Camille's bed, sound sleep having overtaken them. A small, sad smile pierced his lips as he bent down to kiss all three of them.

Losing a child is something no one should ever have to go through. Parents shouldn't have to bury their children. But sometimes you have to go through such tough times. The important thing to remember is that family is always there. With the help of family and loved ones, Logan learned, you can handle anything.

_The End. _

_Soo..was it good? Horrible? Am I considered the sickest person ever for wanting to write something like this? Did you cry? (I'm weird; my goal is to make people cry...Again, I'm a sick person.) Let me know what you think!_


End file.
